"WHAT? Your mom did this?" I gasped out, horrified. I had thought that Newt was the only female demon left on either side of the lines. I had forgotten that the demons who didn't make it out of the lines could very well still be there, being driven mad over the thousand years since getting stuck there. I hadn't lasted five minutes without my aura. How could one of them have gotten free?
"No, Itchy Witch. No more than your own mother did. My mother has been gone for a millennia, and yours does not hold one iota of the staggering power that such a being does, no matter that she made you. This is going to take a while to get to the heart of the matter at hand… a long conversation and a lot of coffee. I first must bring my suspicions to the Collective, to the Counsel." He began pacing in my kitchen, brow furrowed with thought and motions edging toward eerie Vamp speed in his unease. "If it is as I fear, we have little time to lose and much to make up for."
"Can you at least give me the cliff notes?" I pled, not linking being kept in the dark any more than was necessary.
"The short version is that a very ancient and powerful being is out and about on your side of the lines, for whatever reason, becoming manifest. I fear what this means for us all."
"Fear?" I gulped. "What does a demon have to fear?"
"The ones who made us. Please stay in your church until I can come back to tell you the rest, or until you are summoned by the Collective to make your report of what you have witnessed. Study your books. Continue practice with your spelling. Anything, just do not leave."
"Who made 'us'? Al, what's going on?"
He turned to me from his furious pacing and gave me a look that conveyed his mind-numbing fear, his elation at what we had done, and the promise of so much more to come. I fell silent under that pinning stare. In three strides, with Vamp speed, he was right in my face. He held me close, peering into my face as if committing it to memory. The kiss he gave conveyed the same purpose, as if he was putting all the feelings he had into it, savoring it and reveling in every sensation he could. Then he let me go. I realized that I had to do the same.
"Stay safe," I whispered, afraid for once that it might be more than he could handle.
"And you. I will return as soon as I can."
As if he couldn't help himself, he returned for another mind-stopping, heartrending kiss.
"Before you go," I panted, stopping him with a tug on his sleeve, "Let me see the English Lord in velvet one more time?"
"It is a lie as much as the rest of my affectations," he told me with a sad smile, "but if it will make you happy, it shall be as you say." He stood back apace, gave an elegant flourish, and a wash of everafter took him from my sight. He morphed once more into his more familiar guise and bowed low over my hand, bestowing a gallant kiss. He looked up into my eyes for a moment, goat-slitted orbs over smoky glasses conveying his humor that I would ask and gladness that I had, and vanished into what was left of the night.
Where before his presence would leave me with the feeling of dread, of death one step in the wrong direction away, now the absence of it left me feeling cold and alone. I had held so tight to the conviction that he was always out to get me for so long, I couldn't pinpoint when that feeling had begun to change. I sat heavily in my chair for a moment, blowing out a huge breath. It finally sunk in that I had had sex with Al in my kitchen, with Ivy in the church, and would do so again in a heartbeat because it meant that he was safe here with me. What danger would he face with the Collective? Would they wish to punish the bearer of bad tidings? I didn't know and couldn't begin to fathom the danger he was in at the moment. I didn't have all the damn facts and I hated it. All I had was a lingering sense of fear for his safety and it rankled being a prisoner in my own church once again, unable to do anything to help.
In a morose mood, I went into the cabinet to give myself something to work on. I pulled out the orange cleaner that Ivy insisted we use to erase the mingled scents of our presences from various common areas so that her instincts weren't constantly being provoked. I pulled out a towel from the drawer that held the clean kitchen hand towels and got to work on the island counter before my roommate emerged from her bedroom in search of juice, water, or food after the night's activities.
Everything we had touched, from the coffee maker to the radio also got a spray and wipe-down treatment. I told myself I wasn't erasing what we'd done to save face. I argued only that Ivy still got a little possessive at times, so it was best to keep things from ticking her off. I figured that the scent of a demon intwined with mine wasn't so big a deal, but a demon in a living vampire skin suit would be a bit much for her instincts to take. That done, I invoked my last two potions and downed them, and got stirring.
By the time Ivy came out for refreshments, the kitchen smelled like spelling demon/witch and oranges. The lingering essence of living vampire pheromones were overpowered by the blood-sugaring levels coming off of Ivy. She was relaxed and happy, smelling of blood-and-sex-sated vampire. My scar did a little dance of delight under my skin as she breezed in and went to the fridge. I pulled the essence of those pheromones deeper into me in a huge breath of air, content to let her mood affect mine for once. I could use the comforting warmth it generated in my frazzled nerves.
We studiously avoided each other's eyes as I kept stirring and she began putting together a tray to carry back to her room. I couldn't tell if it was because we were embarrassed about our nocturnal activities, or if we were afraid of what the other would say about them.
Finally, she spoke. "Shop talk, huh?" I blushed to the roots of my hair.
"Got a problem with it?" I growled.
"Nope," she smiled with the hint of fang. "Sounded to me like he knew what he was doing."
What the hell happened to my uptight roommate? I rounded on her with an incredulous look.
She shrugged and took a long drink of her juice. "He's right, you know. It's your choice." There might have been a bit of sadness below the air of nonchalance she was trying to convey. "And I know what I said in Seattle. I'm not here to judge you. I know what it's like to… want things that other people might not understand. Just… be careful. And know that no matter what you choose, I'll always be here with a cup of hot chocolate if you end up getting hurt."
"Ivy," I breathed out, afraid of what I might say. "I…"
"It's OK, Rachel. You don't have to worry about me. I'm getting better and stronger and finding my joy. I'd be a real monster if I tried to stop you from doing the same."
I nodded my thanks. The words seemed so paltry in comparison to how I felt. "So you're not… mad?"
"Why would I be mad? I'm moving on. I've tried for months to show you that I am. Now that you're practicing again, you don't really need my protection, so my claim on your blood would be a limitation, not an asset. I've never claimed the rest of you, much as I wanted to. That would be selfish. You're not my shadow. You're my friend."
"Ok, then," I breathed out, still in a bit of shock. "So we're good?"
"Better than good. We're great. Now, if you don't mind, I've got some pressing business in my room to attend to. Better not let that boil over, either." She nodded to my potion, which I scrambled to salvage as she sashayed from the room with her tray of goodies.
Once I had the batch cooling off to the side, I grabbed another cup of coffee and sat heavily at the counter, mind in a daze. There was too much to process to start another batch. I'd be distracted and distracted spelling often meant big, horrendous mistakes. I wasn't sure if I should trust the batch I'd just made, any way. I frowned into my coffee as I let the night's events play out again in my head. I got to the point where Al and I were leaving downtown for Clifton, where he'd told me about the magical trace he'd felt. I thought about the slight demon flavor he'd detected. I thought about my dream, trying to see where the puzzle pieces fit together. With a sneeze, I felt that somebody from over there was trying to contact me. I pulled out my scrying mirror and opened a connection.
Rachel, Al's mental voice came across the link. He felt tired.
Hi, I thought back shyly.
His low mental chuckle warmed my heart. You can be irritatingly adorable at times. Have to try to keep a straight face. I'm in an audience with the Counsel. They'll be putting together a full session. You'll be summoned at dawn to testify.
How bad is it? I bit my lip in worry.
They've not reached a decision about whether or not this is the work of one of the Younger Gods. They're going to be sure before they allow this to cause a panic.
'Younger Gods'? Al, what the hell are we into, here?
I would have liked to be able to tell you the whole of it, but they won't let me leave. They want this buttoned down tight. Images began to filter through the message that he was trying to get across. I saw the court room flicker here and there, recognized it from when I'd claimed Trent as my own familiar. It was hard to follow, but I managed to glean not only where he was in the everafter, but snippets of books he'd read, with illuminations on the so-called 'Younger Gods,' and get a slight feel for the power that they were reported to have.
So tell me now. I need to know how to prepare.
There's not enough time. I'm to go give my testimony before the Conclave to… oh shit here they come.
Al!
Later, love.
With that, the connection was closed.
I got up to switch off the radio. Takata's show was over and it was getting harder to think around the lyrics and pounding drums of the music. Marylyn Manson wasn't really conductive to the pondering of deep mysteries. I went to the window to stare out into my graveyard. I shook inside, while outwardly I was as calm as a placid lake on a breezeless summer's day. I wondered briefly who I was trying to be strong for and found that the answer was me. I needed to be strong like I needed air and water. I couldn't break down right then, not with the looming certainty that I'd be called away to give testimony before the demonic court.
The demon flavor, based on Al's reaction to my dream and what had occurred within it, was probably my contribution to the unknown potion. I didn't try to wrap my head around how something that happened in a dream could effect reality; I'd seen that even things in dream could have bearing on what went on in the physical realm. My kiss with Trent could testify to that. That had been Elven magic. It was said that their magic drew power from the divine. A god (or goddess) was most certainly to be considered divine in nature, so it was no great stretch of the imagination to think this was in the scope of godly power.
What remained were only questions of why I was needed. Was it because I was the only demon this side of the lines? Or was it something far more sinister? Was it because of what I'd done to the lines? The being masquerading as my mother had said she was finishing what I started. I'd started a whole lot of things, none of which had as much bearing or significance to the natural balance between the worlds as carving a new line from reality to reality. She wanted to bring all her children home, she said. If she was one of the original creators of demonkind, as I'd gotten an inkling from everything Al had said, and if the everafter was merely a bubble of misplaced time, trailing along behind this world, she may have been trying to end the everafter, to bring the demons back into reality.
I pondered that thought deeply, wondering if that would be such a bad thing. The immediate thought was that I wouldn't have to smell burnt amber ever again, and that any future booty calls Al paid me wouldn't have to end at dawn. Selfish reasoning aside, I decided instantly that it would be the worst thing to ever happen, for so many reasons. As long as demons remained trapped in the everafter, the world was mostly safe from them. I could see where they would set themselves up as the unquestioned overlords of the world, with so few elves to hold them back. Reality wasn't ready for them to return. The immediate consequence of the two worlds becoming one, though, was that all of demonic agreements and all of demonic law hinged on the two worlds remaining separate. The chaos that would ensue when demons no longer had to hold up their ends of the bargains with witches, humans, elves, each other… I couldn't bear to think of it. Ceri would be in danger. I would be in danger, more than already I was. Nic and those like him would find themselves a familiar, a slave, or somebody's after dinner mint within the hour. The fragile balancing act between the powers of the separate Interland societies would be overturned. Riots. War. Death and destruction on a global scale, so soon after the Turn. No one was ready. No one would be safe.
I gave into the shudders that wanted to wrack my body as I thought through the worst-case scenarios. I wasn't so naive to think that reuniting demon society with the one made by Vampires, Weres, Witches, Elves, and Humans would be all sunshine and roses. It would be a total catastrophic event that would rock the foundations of the earth.
I decided right there and then that if uniting the separate realities was the goal of this 'Mom' person, whatever powers she had, I would do everything I could to stop her. Her plans would endanger us all. It was with this sense of purpose in mind that I pulled myself together and got back to spelling. I wanted all the tools in my arsenal when I had to face the demon Collective and tell them what I'd done and how this being was going to exploit it to bring about the end of existence as we knew it.
As night inched toward day, I had consumed three pots of coffee, more phials of various curses than I had done in the whole of my existence, and stocked my splat gun with much worse than sleepy-time pellets. I threw on my working leathers, called for Bis, and left a note on Ivy's computer desktop about where I was going, along with my instructions as to what needed to be done in the meantime. I couldn't tell her exactly who stole the fountain because I didn't have all the damn facts, but I wrote my suspicions down so that she could continue investigating it while I was away.
I wrote an email to my mother, to tell her I loved her. I knew it would scare the shit out of her, but I'd never forgive myself if I didn't get the chance to come back to tell her so. I tried to write one to Trent. All I could come up with was, "Sorry things never worked out." I wrote a much longer one to Ivy and to Jenks. Part of my instructions to Ivy were that if I was summoned and I didn't come, to get into my email and send my last letters to everyone. With the sun creating the horizon, I called for Bis. Something in my mood must have clued him into the gravity of my situation, because his ears and tail were decidedly drooping. I reassured him as best I could.
I waited for the summons. The lines would be closed for travel from the everafter for the demons and whatever court they would bring together would be going into session with the sunrise. I didn't have long to wait.
I sneezed and doubled over with the gut-cramps, ensured Bis was with me, and let the summoning have me.